


Tigress

by lightofdaye



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cousin Incest, F/M, Incest, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 07:58:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1379926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightofdaye/pseuds/lightofdaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Al had finally plucked up the courage to ask Lucy Weasley out, now if only she had been home</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tigress

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tamlane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamlane/gifts).



> Written in 2013 for Tamlane's birthday. I should also mention the obvious influence Molly Carpenter of _The Dresden Files_ had on my interpretation of Molly Weasley II.

Mr Percy Weasley was not Albus Potter's favourite uncle. In fact, as far as he knew, Mr. Percy Weasley was not anybody's favourite uncle, perhaps that was why his nieces and nephews all called him as 'Mr. Percy Weasley' and not 'Uncle Percy' except of course for James who called him a berk (but only when Mum wasn't listening). So why exactly, he thought to himself, was he standing in front of Percy Weasley's front door wearing an outfit that tried to be simultaneously severely smart and formal while still remaining casual and fun? Lucy Weasley was the answer.

Now Al had long ago realised that he wasn't the smartest fellow about, aided by both his siblings and more than one of his cousins, and Lucy Weasley was just one more example. Dating, people told Al, was easy at Hogwarts, with its closed society, the ability to met girls frequent at every class, it was supposed to be the simplest thing to just wander up to one and ask if they wanted to hang out in the library or go to the next Hogsmeade weekend.

Somehow Al had managed to wait until the 7th Year's NEWT survivor's party on his last day of school to express an interest in a girl and even then it had been his own cousin. So here he was, approaching Percy Weasley's house to take his youngest daughter out on a date. It couldn't possibly be so difficult to walk in a straight line while your knees were knocking with nerves but Al was giving it a good go.

At 6:00pm, precisely the appointed time, Al reached the tall front door and hammered his Uncle's big bronze knocker. Nothing happened. Al waited a minute and then knocked again hesitantly, realised he wouldn't get results by knocking more quietly and rapped again slightly harder.

The door swung open slowly and a tall figure glared at him through the opening. Albus did a double take under the person's forceful gaze but then he realised the looming figure was not Percy Weasley, nor Auntie Audrey but his cousin.

"What?" Molly Weasley said severely. 

Al was taken aback.  
“Hiya Molly! I was here to pick up Lucy.”

“Well she’s not in.”

For a second Albus though she was going to slam the door in his face but she hesitated, her blue eyes raked up and down his body contemplatively before she turned away and stepped deeper into the house.

“You better come in and wait for her I guess,” Molly said over one shoulder.

Hesitantly, Albus followed her into the house, and the heavy front door closed behind them with an ominous rattling of locks. Molly lead him through an entrance hall into a living room, filled with arm chairs and a sofa, all spotless and fitted with lacy covers to protect them.

“Like the place?” Molly asked, whirling to face him. 

“Yes.. yeah, it’s nice,” Al lied.

Molly snorted.

“So.. err.. where is Lucy anyway?”

“She went with Mum and Dad to Diagon Alley, they probably want to smother her with presents for getting through Newt year or something.”

Al couldn’t think of anything to say to that.

“She should be back soon, so don’t you worry,” Molly continued and she gave him another contemplative glance. “So you and Lucy, eh? That’s works, you’re both so nice.”

Al didn’t know if that was supposed to be a complement.

“Dad’ll like that. You wouldn’t catch him letting any of my boy toys nears the house but then we’re very different.” 

Al couldn’t help but return the long contemplative looks Molly was giving him and it was true that Percy Weasley’s daughters were very different. Under her father's eye, Lucy had become prim and proper and so fastidiously well behaved even Uncle Percy could not find fault with her. With Molly, on the other hand, he had not been so lucky. 

Molly's looks were a bit of mystery to Al. She'd inherited good genes from somewhere, and although she was unmistakably a Weasley she hardly resembled her father and had more of a resemblance to Uncle Bill. She was a couple of inches taller than Al, who was admittedly still slightly vertically challenged, and a couple of inches wider across the shoulders as well, her broad frame supporting some impressive curves. Her skin was pale and almost entirely lacking in freckles.

But it was not so much her natural good looks that made Al's jaw drop, it was what she had done to herself. Liberal, though inconsistent use of hair dye had turned irregular stripes and clumps of her red hair jet black. And that was the least of it, large quantities of metal glinted in the light and sparkled as Al took note of her piercing. Her left ear had a golden stud, the right; a bronze stud and a silver ring, more studs littered her right nostril and left eyebrow, and the head of a snake tattoo peeked out over the edge of her low cut top, Al's eyes obediently followed the sinuous length of the tattoo downwards until he realised where he was staring and with great difficulty tore his eyes away from her chest.

When his eyes returned to her face, there was a glimmer in her eyes that Al would have taken for amusement but the way the corner of her lip curled send a jolt through Albus' stomach and unaccountably put him in mind of a tiger and a very hungry tiger, no less.

Still, for the lack of a better word, smiling, Molly reached out and caught his tie. Al noticed her nails were painted black and scarlet.

"A tie? You look too adorable to be forty, Al," she said, playing with the end of it.

"Hey, I think it looks nice," Al said. And it did, after all. It was quite a tasteful thing made of green silk.

"And you thought it'd impress Dad," Molly said, unconvinced. "Like that ever happens. Still it is useful, isn't?"

She wrapped the tie around her hand, yanking him a bit closer to him.

"Molly!" Al exclaimed, "What are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Molly said, giving the tie another twist, bringing them closer so Al could see the gleam in her eye again.

"No," Al squeaked.

The third twist of the tie almost made Al's head collide with Molly's and he instinctively pulled back put there was no slack left in the tie and he could barely move an inch away from her.

"I'm seducing you." Molly said huskily, moving her head closer to him. He caught a quick look of himself reflected in her nose stud, marvelled for a second at the mixture of fear and excitement on his own face before he caught sight of her full lips, covered in dark lipstick.

He’d never kissed a girl wearing lipstick, his mind thought, absent of rationality.

“But... Lucy.” Al protested weakly. 

“Lucy isn’t here. Tough luck for her.”

Her fingers brushed the dark hair of his fringe away from his forehead and gripped the side of his head firmly.

“Molly... why are you doing this?” Al gasped in a last desperate attempt.

“Because you’re so damned hot,” Molly said. 

“No. Really,” Al said.

“Because it would really piss my Dad off if he knew,” Molly said and winked at him.

 _Is it just her father she wants to piss off?_ Al thought before Molly clamped her jaws down on his mouth and all his conscious thought processes decided to take a rest break. 

Al was almost surprised when his back hit the wall of the living room a second later. Molly, it seemed, was stronger than him or at least more willing to direct her force against a cousin. Left with nowhere else to go, Al’s head tilted into the kiss, deepening it. Her mouth was hot and her tongue was very energetic, pushing past his lips without so much as slowing down to explore his mouth and Al quickly realised another place Molly had had pierced; the cool hardness of the metal stud contrasting to the soft heat of her tongue.

Still off balance, Al flung his arms around Molly to support himself. One hand ending up tangled in orange and black hair, the other pressed against the bare skin on the small of her back. Molly’s tongue with its wickedly effective metal stud pumped in and out of Al’s slack mouth as his body melted embarrassingly into her confident grip. Al was sure this was supposed to happen the other way around. Well he was certain this wasn’t supposed to happen at all, snogging the older, ( _hotter_ , a traitorous part of his mind added) sister, but well here he was and there was only so much a man could be expected to resist after all.

So his hands moved downwards, from her back to the round smooth globe of Molly’s right arse cheek, firm and nearly unyielding under his grip. The other moved down, the fingertips trailing through silky striped hair and back across the lines of her ribs to grip a handful of boob. This was much more pliant than her arse and yield under his fingers.

Molly purred into his mouth and stopped snogging him long enough to say;

‘Hmm. Now you’re getting the idea.” Before her tongue was back down his throat again.

Encouraged Al didn’t remove his hand from her breast and instead gripped and squeezed it, rolling it in his palm, feeling its weight and smooth softness, through the thin sheer fabric of her top. The only hard part was the centre of her breast, his thumb brushed against the nipple, which was causing a noticeable dent in the surface of her top and as he did so his thumb caught on something hard and unyielding; yet more metal. The pad of his thumb pressed against it, twisting it and accidentally tweaking her nipple harder than he would have done otherwise. The noise Molly made was less a moan and more a yowl. She pulled back again and again Al saw the light in her eyes, for a second her though she was angry again until he saw a tiny triangle of pink flash across the dark tresses of her lips wetting them.

“So you do know how to play. I wondered. Do you like my tits then?”

“Yes,” Al said on reflex. On afterwards did he realised he’d just missed a chance to deescalate the situation. The corpse of his guilt gave a little twitch.

“Do you want to see more?”

“Hell yes.” Al said automatically.

Over the long summer holidays, when he had no one else to talk to, James had regaled Al with long, unlikely stories about girls, and his conquests and for some reason the looks of all their cousins, who were the girls they came in to contact with most of all. Victorie was the eldest, blondest and therefore hottest, said James, and Rose was probably the kinkiest, despite of or maybe because of her bookishness. He’d never quite made up his mind whether Roxanne or Dominique had the best arse but the one that was constant was that Molly had the best tits in the entire Weasley family.

Now, as she pulled her top over her head and they sprang into his view, Al had no reason at all to doubt his brother’s proclamation. They were very full and round, and even without a bra they didn’t sag at all, standing forth proudly from her chest, capped in dark pink nipples. They were perfect, and that was even before what Molly had done to them. They were asymmetrical now. The nipple under Al’s right hand was pierced with metal barbell; small metal balls were visible to each side of it. And the other one; well it have been a very lucky tattoo artist that had done Molly’s snake; it started at collar bone and descended, spiralling inwards over the flesh of her breast until the tip of its tail ended a thousandth of an inch from her areola. 

The entire effect seemed to be hypnotic; it gave Al the almost irresistible desire to trace the lines of the design with his tongue. Unconsciously his head dropped towards it but Molly only laughed and backed up slightly.

“Now, now, Al,” she taunted. “You’ve had your fun. Now I see what I get to play with.” 

Before Albus could fully process this statement Molly’s hands moved to his waistline and undid his belt, he was just remembering to feel self-conscious and embarrassed as his button was undone and his zipper pulled inexorably downwards. An objection was just on the tip of his tongue when she pulled his hard, for lack of a better word, length out of his trousers.

“Oh wow, Al,” Molly said in a strange tone, “You kept this one quiet. How did you get to be so shy with a cock like this?”

Al let out the breath that he hadn’t realised he was holding as a sigh of relief.

“So it’s alright then?”

“More than a mouthful, I’d say,” Molly said and winked again, “and I mean to find out.”

One hand curled about him near the base of his shaft, compressing skin till she found the hardness underneath, the pressure pulling the last of the foreskin from the head of his cock. Her lips descended on him, kissing the tip of his cock and coming back shiny wet with pre-come.

Al let out a long hoarse groan, as her tongue swirled across the head of his cock, just using the tip of it, smearing spit over it. She seemed to being careful to catch him with the stud though, but the possibility was still there. Al was enjoying it but still filled with a nervous tension. 

“Uh.. oh gods Mols, oh shite. That’s good.” He murmured.

“Swearing so soon?” Molly smiled. “We’ll make a bad boy out of you yet.”

Then Molly’s lips closed firmly about him and sucked hard enough to hollow her cheeks. Al cried out loudly and swore again. But Molly didn’t stop what she was doing to comment this time. Instead her head started bobbing up and down on his cock, each time taking more and more of him past her dark lips. Her tongue started to work on him again, sweeping across the underside of his shaft, soaking him in a thick layer of a spit so that now Al could feel the metal stud sliding across his skin as well.

His knees weakened at thought of what her pierced tongue was doing to him, his hands scrambled for support again and found only Molly’s head and clutched at it, his fingers becoming hopelessly tangled in her hair. He glanced down at her nervously but she didn’t seem to object, if anything she seemed to pick up her pace as a reward for it.

When she had more than half of his cock down her mouth, and just when Al thought things couldn’t get hotter, her hand left his shaft. Instead both her hands went to Al’s hips, feeling impossibly warm and good against his skin. They worked their way around to his back and then down, forcing his trousers and pants down over his hips, so she could grip his arse. 

Al liked to think he could cope with a great many things, he had James as a brother after all, but some things were just beyond the ability of anyone to keep control through. Having your cock ferociously sucked by a madwoman while she fondled your arse was definitely one of those things. He couldn’t be held responsible for the way his hold on her hair tightened, pulling her head down further onto his cock, forcing the last couple of inches into her even though the head of his cock had already been pressed against the back of her mouth. She could stop him if she wanted, Al thought, but each time he pulled back, she went to work on his arse again, nails digging into his cheeks.

For a few moments, they moved in a kind of synchrony, the forward thrust of Al’s hips being matched by the downward stroke of Molly’s head. He could feel the way her throat was working now, could see the way her nostrils flared to suck in breathe where she could. He met her predatory gaze for just a moment and for a second he realised; he might be facefucking Molly, she might be on her knees with her tits out and his balls smacking against her chin. But really, she had him right where she wanted him.

Then his balls seemed to tighten all at once, and his body jerked beyond his control and he was spilling himself into her in a mindless tide of ecstasy. He gasped and sagged in relieve. But he did not feel tired, if anything he felt more energised. He didn’t want to stop her. He wanted to throw Molly down on the sofa and spread her legs. He wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine. Then he wanted to mount her and…

The lock on the front door was turned loudly and it swung open and footsteps clattered into the hallway just outside the living room where Al stood at least quarter, maybe even a third naked.

Al’s hands tore at his waistline. Yanking his trousers up and fumbling with his belt buckle, managing to cinch it home just before realising his shirt tails were still entirely untucked and his tie was a mangled mess. He desperately set to righting himself as he heard a familiar, severe voice say from the corridor;

“Molly! What have I told you about leaving lights on all over the place, young lady?”

“I haven’t left it on,” Molly snapped back, loudly, “I’m in here. With Albus Potter.”

Al gave Molly (who’s appearance had return to its normal look with amazingly quickness) a betrayed look as he hoisted his tie up into its proper position just in time as Mr Percy Weasley, Audrey and Lucy all seem to erupt on to the scene at once, eyes alternately wide at seeing Al and narrowing in suspicion at Molly.

“Al! Goodness, you’re early!” Lucy said, rushing up to him.

“Yes, yes. Very commendable, Albus,” Percy Weasley said, shaking him formally by the hand, “Though perhaps more than half an hour early is a tad excessive.”

“Don’t worry, I _entertained_ him while he waited,” Molly said. There was pregnant pause, and then she swept her arm at the coffee table behind her. “We had tea.”

And there were miraculously a pair of tea cups sitting on the table and even the dregs of tea in them that Molly must have conjured while he wasn’t looking. As her family look at the cups, Molly gave Al a wink over their heads.

“Still Al, we said seven o’clock you know.” Lucy said, fussing.

“Oh did we? I thought you said six.” Al said with every appearance of complete innocence. “It was my fault entirely, I am sure.”

And he winked back at Molly.


End file.
